A Series of Six Mini Stories
by Maddie
Summary: This is a series of six drabbles 400 words written for the Last Fiction Writer Standing challenge on Live Journal. Each responds to a different prompt.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Darkness

**Word Count**: 456

**Rating:** PG

**Disclaimer:** _Stargate: Atlantis_ and all its characters, etc. belong to MGM, but the plot belongs to me.

**Spoilers:** None

**Challenge: Round One of the Last Fiction Writer Standing challenge** - Write a story in which ONLY dialogue is used. No scene setters at all. Just pure dialogue. Not even '... Sheppard said' or '... Rodney complained'. All must speak at least once.

Okay. This is my first entry in the LFWS challenge. I did tweak it a bit in an effort to correct errors and accommodate criticisms of the original. This is still not my strongest story but an improvement.

**Darkness**

By, Maddie

"Rodney! Teyla…Ronan….!? Report"

"Sheppard."

"Rodney! What's your status?"

"Dark…can't breathe…closed space…I'm cut off…"

"Rodney…don't go claustrophobic on me. Not now. I need you to think."

"So close…"

"Rodney…"

"Okay, breathing. One…two…"

"What's your status?"

"My legs are pinned. Part of the roof collapsed. I think the whole roof collapsed. There's no light…I can't tell..."

"Are you injured?"

"I think my ankle might be broken."

"Can you dig out?"

"Don't know. May have cracked a rib too."

"John?"

"Teyla. Are you anywhere near McKay. Within visual range."

"No. I seem to be cut off from all of you. I'm in a very tiny space. The air is not good. I think we are lucky to have not lost communications."

"Are you injured?"

"My arm."

"Has anyone heard from Ronon?"

"I'm here, Sheppard. I can move, but everything is black."

"We're all in the dark."

"More than dark…my eyes. I can't see."

"All right. We need to assess our options."

"We are cut off from each other by the rock fall. I cannot tell how much stone separates us."

"That's what I thought too, Teyla."

"John?"

"What, Teyla?"

"You do not sound good. Are you injured?"

"Aren't we all?"

"But you?"

"Cut. Some sharp metal. Not serious. Tired though."

"You are bleeding?"

"Some…"

"Oh, Crap!!"

"McKay! McKay...what's happening?"

"Crap. I was wrong. _Now_, the whole roof collapsed. Every time I try to move more rubble comes down. How incredibly stupid."

"We need to try to free ourselves. You're doing the right thing, McKay, you're not stupid."

"Of course not me. The Ancients. They built this structure right on a major fault line. San Andreas type fault."

"We'll discuss that later. We need to figure out how to get out."

"Or wait till Atlantis starts looking for us? I said San Andreas. As in extremely unstable. God knows how many more aftershocks this structure can take."

"I do not think I will have enough air to wait."

"Okay, Teyla, we'll figure it out. We will…we will…"

"John!? How seriously are you bleeding? John'

"Holy, crap…the roof…."

"Rodney? Dr. McKay…are you still with us? John….Rodney…Ronan? Someone answer me. All of you answer me.'

"I'm here, Teyla."

"Ronon. Oh, thank the Ancestors. Did you feel the ground shaking? What did Dr. McKay call it, an aftershock?"

"Yes, it was strong. I can still move. I can dig even if I can't see. I will find a way to get to all of you. Try to hold on."

"I am. But, it's getting harder to breathe."

"Stay with me, Teyla."

"I will try…They won't answer…"

"I know."

"I'm afraid."

"I will get you _all_ out."

"I'm not afraid for me…I'm afraid…I'm afraid it's too late. John and Rodney may already be gone…"


	2. Chapter 2

Last Fiction Writer Standing Challenge Prompt 2

Description: It MUST be told using an original character point of view (the marine guarding the gateroom, the guy who has to clean the blood from the floor of the jumper, the med tech who has to deal with the triage aftermath, the scientist in the lab when everything went bad, etc.).

Title: The Watcher

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and all its characters belong to MGM. Only the plot belongs to me.

Spoilers: None

**The Watcher**

The blaring alarm pulsed through conduits buried deep within the walls, throbbing along transmission lines and vibrating through deck plates. Seconds later the raw power of the wormhole erupted, eliciting a rush of warmth deep inside her. Medical personnel raced toward the gate room as fatigue clad humans tumbled through the shimmering surface. Orchestrated mayhem ensued as doctors and nurses swarmed over the returning soldiers. Then she saw John Sheppard. His uniform soaked with bright red blood. The CMO snapped commands at her people. "Femoral artery. He needs to be in surgery now. And I want every unit of O-negative we have. Make sure all available donors are on alert. Now, move…move." They were gone from the gate room in minutes leaving the other members of John's team standing in numbed silence. Medics were there to assist them; she needed to be where John was.

The surgery was endless. The wait unbearable. Slowly, she saw the surgical team relax. Frantic speed became methodical efficiency. His vital signs stabilized and once again she marveled at the skill of the medical team though she often found their methods crude. A year ago she could barely tolerated the little humans, poking and prodding into everything. Then, she realized that after all the countless years of isolation, they were a welcome distraction. Over time, she came to know their names and recognized their physical forms. Touch dead though most of them were, unable to activate even the most minimal components left by the builders, she came to tolerate their presence. She understood how much his teammates meant to John. They came now to visit him, as they always did until the doctor made them leave. The room was still and quiet.

Carefully, she adjusted the ambient temperature, subtly altering the composition of the air around him, introducing trace elements known to soothe biological forms such as these, information gleaned from surveys of countless worlds over countless years, even releasing subtle pheromones known to calm and promote healing. Like an infant in a womb, she wanted to envelope and protect him. But the other was coming back. The doctor.

"I know." Jennifer spoke softly to the nurse accompanying her. "I just want to make sure he's resting comfortably." Jennifer entered the room, carefully noting the readings on the machines surrounding his bed. She paused a moment a quizzical look on her face. The doctor sniffed as she detected the light fragrance, and then shrugged. "New perfume, Anne?"

"Me?" responded the young woman at her side. "Not really." Anne sniffed the air experimentally. "I rather like it though."

"Must be something Teyla was wearing. I'll have to ask. It reminds me of lavender."

Anne straightened the sheets that did not need straightened then, nodded to the doctor and left the tiny cubicle. Jennifer lingered checking the various instruments again, then gently laid her hand on his wrist as though the only reassurance was the warm feel of his flesh beneath her fingers. Smiling softly, the doctor nodded then left.

Once again she was alone with him. She adjusted the wavelength of the light next to his bed. That was better. Now he looked less pale. She allowed a gentle puff of air to riffle a lock of his unruly hair. If she could smile she would. For now she would keep vigil as she had done all too often. She would not tire and did not need sleep. She had slept for 10,000 years. Now she would patiently watch, and wait. John had become all important to her. Others could control her systems but only he could bring them to life and make them sing. She owed her awakening mind to him.

She was Atlantis. She was sentient. And he was her heart.

(end)


	3. Chapter 3

_**LFWS #1 ROUND 3**_**: **No-dialog Challenge  
**Word count: **: 500 max. Not one word over.  
**Characters: **Choose any from the following – Teyla, Lorne, Radek, Woolsey, Chuck and Sam  
**Description: **Choose from two to all characters from the list and write a story in which there is no dialogue at all. There must be social interaction, but you can't write any dialog. No other characters allowed, but can be mentioned.

Title: This Czech Don't Reel

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and all its characters are the property of MGM. No infringement intended.

Spoilers: None

**This Czech Don't Reel**

Radek landed on his backside with a resounding whump. Stifling a laugh, and never missing a step, Lorne reached down and hauled the cursing Czech to his feet. That's gonna bruise, Lorne thought. It never ceased to amaze him how such a brilliant man could have so much trouble keeping his right and left feet straight, particularly under duress.

Mumbling in his native language and moving with a pronounced limp the smaller man massaged his rump as resumed his position. Lorne and continued to whirl Teyla through the rest of the dance, his arm around the Athosian's waist. As he guided her, he marveled at the tautly controlled strength in the woman's every move. Skilled in personal combat techniques, she seemed unfazed by the complexity of the maneuver they had just executed. A thin sheen of sweat glistened across her forehead. She smiled and for a moment Lorne found his face inches from hers. As he drew her closer he felt the heat radiating from her body, and as their eyes met the heat seemed more than just from exertion. Do not go there, he reprimanded himself. There are some places that are just off limits. He concentrated instead on keeping his own right and left feet straight so he didn't follow Radek to the floor.

Lorne had to admit he'd had his doubts when the unofficial Atlantis Social Committee, backed by Colonel Carter, decided a dance might provide a proper social outlet to help everyone de-stress. Sparring accidents had risen at a dramatic rate and Carter was looking for a safer outlet for the growing tension in the Atlantis community. She wanted some activity less violent if not less physically demanding than pseudo combat.

Most of his marines sniggered at the idea. Lorne had stopped short of ordering his men to attend, and decided that setting a good example was the better tactic. He might have been raised on the west coast, but his mother's roots were deep, deep south. He'd spent his youthful summers in Georgia with his Grandma who dragged him to every civil war re-enactment in every neighboring state. Not, she would lecture him, to become a student of war, but to learn the genteel art of being a true Southern gentleman. That meant learning complicated Victorian dances without making a complete fool of himself. He wasn't so sure her plan worked, since he had enlisted in the military right out of college, much to Grandma's dismay. She'd be pleased, he thought, to know her efforts were not entirely in vain. It seems he still remembered how to do a fast and mean Virginia Reel.

As he finished the thought another string of invective came from the floor area. Lorne turned just as Sam Carter hauled Radek to his feet again, patted him on the back and spun back into line to a chorus of hoots and catcalls from the men watching from the other room. Now that is _really_ gonna smart, Lorne thought.

(end)


	4. Chapter 4

**Last Fiction Writer Standing Challenge Prompt 4**

**Theme: **John Challenge  
**Word count: **: 400 exactly  
**Characters: **John (POV) with Ronon OR Teyla OR Rodney  
**Description: **Write a whump fic with John and one of his team. John POV.

Title: Escape

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and all its characters are the property of MGM. No infringement intended.

Spoilers: None

**Escape**

John Sheppard careened through the dense underbrush. Branches switched his face and torso; gnarled roots tangled his feet and threatened to send him crashing to the forest floor. Driven with a madman's purpose to put as much distance between himself and his captors as possible, he staggered to the edge of a small stream sliding down the muddy embankment losing his balance and plunging into the icy water. Submerging his arms in the frigid water of the stream brought a rush of agony, before the icy bath began to numb the throbbing pain. The shock brought him quickly to his senses. He looked at his hands, swollen from being bound, his wrists rubbed raw from repeated attempts to free himself, the tender flesh of his inner arms welted and bruised from being struck again and again as they interrogated him. He had to keep moving.

He stood and stumbled downstream, splashing through the chill water until he came to an overhanging cluster of roots that formed a small depression in the steep bank. Hunkering down, he pressed himself into the space, cradling his injured arms against his abdomen, suppressing a shudder and forcing his labored breathing to slow. He would not be captured again. Straining his ears, he could make out the sound of one set of footsteps, cautiously stepping in the water, following his track. He could take out one enemy. A shadow moved across the water. Tensing he sprang outward as a figure moved across the opening of his hiding place.

They both crashed into the water.

"John!"

"Teyla." A rush of relief filled him.

Teyla struggled to her feet, and gripped his arm to help him up. He flinched at the contact, and she gently turned his arm over, her face darkening when she saw the mottled bruises and deep lacerations.

"I ordered you back to Atlantis," he said, failing miserably to project a stern reprimand.

"We went to Atlantis," she said firmly. "And we returned with re-enforcements to rescue you. You are safe now."

Shock and the pain overcame the adrenalin and he began shivering violently. Teyla stripped off her tac vest and fatigue jacket tossing the latter over his shoulders. It was damp, but offered some warmth.

"We need to get you back to the Stargate."

He could see the concern in the Athosian woman's dark eyes.

"Help me up," he said. "And, Teyla, thanks."

the end


	5. Chapter 5

**Last Fiction Writer Standing Challenge Prompt 5**

**Theme: **Rodney Challenge  
**Word count: **: 400 exactly  
**Characters: **Rodney (POV) with either Ronon OR Teyla  
**Description: **Write any fic using Rodney with either Ronon OR Teyla. Rodney POV.

Title: Not on My Watch

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and all its characters are the property of MGM. No infringement intended.

Thanks again to Gyrmalcyn for the beta (this and my preceding three entries)

**Not on My Watch**

What made him think he could stand between a pissed off Satedan and whatever it was he wanted to annihilate?

Rodney McKay flinched away from the raw fury on the Satedan's face, pretended he wasn't being held six inches off the ground by the front of his uniform and tried desperately to remember why he thought he could, or should, stop Ronon from killing the man who was now an unconscious gray heap at their feet. Well, at Ronon's feet since his were still six inches off the ground. "Killing him won't help," Rodney repeated.

With a sound that was half grunt, half growl Ronon released his shirt front and he dropped to the floor, hard. Ronon rounded on the door and slammed his fist into the polished surface.

"That won't do them any good either." McKay said, hoping Ronon was too consumed by battle rage to hear the quaver in his own voice.

The Satedan drew his weapon and took aim at the silent obstruction.

"No," Rodney surprised himself with the force of his command. He saw the muscles tighten in Ronon's forearm. His trigger finger clenched.

"Give me one reason."

Rodney sucked in a harsh breath, "You could damage the control circuits. I wouldn't be able to open the door."

"You're NOT opening it."

Ronon turned to McKay. The look in his eyes mirrored the creeping despair in the scientist's heart. On the other side of the door, the image of Sheppard and Teyla was seared into McKay's memory. They were besieged by enemy soldiers, wounded and bleeding and while they were going down with guns blazing, they were still going down. Sheppard had shoved him through the door into Ronon's arms just as the steel bulkhead crashed closed with a ringing finality.

Rodney turned to the closest console, shaking fingers flying over its surface. This underground complex had a sophisticated sound system. If he could manipulate the output maybe he could create a sonic disturbance that would have the same effect as a flash-bang without the flash. Their team mates would be immobilized also, but that was better than dead. Then all they had to do was open the door and pull them to this side and safety.

With confidence that belied his fear he finished the final data input. "Get ready. I'm opening the door." *They aren't going to die.* McKay thought. *Not on my watch.*

(The End)


	6. Chapter 6

**Last Fiction Writer Standing Challenge Prompt 6**

**Theme: **Teyla Challenge  
**Word count: **: 400 exactly  
**Characters: **Teyla (POV) and any female(s) – Sam, Elizabeth, Jennifer, Teldy, Vega, Porter, Mehra, Heightmeyer…  
**Description: **Write a whump fic using Teyla and any female character(s). Teyla POV.

Title: Unlikely Courage

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and all its characters are the property of MGM. No infringement intended.

Spoilers: None.

Set before "Quarantine"

**Unlikely Courage**

Her precious plant samples scattered to the ground as Teyla knocked Katie Brown into a small depression in the forest floor. A hail of arrows cut the air where they had stood moments before. She ignored the stunned look on the Katie's face as the front of the other woman's uniform darkened with the unmistakable color of blood.

"I'm sorry," Teyla murmured. "Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine." Katie shook with fear as she looked at the front of her blood splattered uniform. Then her eyes widened in absolute terror as she saw the fletched end of the arrow protruding from Teyla's upper chest.

"Teyla you've been hit!"

Her mouth continued to move but Teyla, could not hear for the roaring of the blood in her ears. She tried to bring her P90 up but her right arm would not move. The arrow shifted deep within her causing more blood to spurt onto Katie's once pristine uniform. Too much blood, Teyla thought. She shifted her weapon to her left hand, bringing it awkwardly up and ready, her right arm limp at her side, as she shielded Katie with her body.

Teyla's struggled to remain focused, lightheaded and aware of the spreading warmth soaking her uniform. A dull lassitude crept through her and she offered no resistance as Katie wiggled from underneath her. Keeping her head low, Katie leaned over her, terror and concern etched across her face. Then she tapped the comm unit in her ear, and some of the fear melted away. "Hurry, please, Teyla's been shot."

Katie's words came thorough a dull fog.

"Teyla?" She gently nudged Teyla's good shoulder to be sure she had her attention. "That was Colonel Sheppard. He and Ronon and Rodney…uh, Dr. McKay…are coming. Hang on, Teyla. They'll be here soon.

Teyla nodded, tried to smile, to reassure the frightened woman that she understood. To her surprise a look of grim determination replaced the fear in Katie's eyes.

"You're going to be okay," Katie said, gently easing the P90 from Teyla's weakening grip. The weapon looked odd in the botanist's hands, as she handled the gun with reverent fear. Her other hand, stained with Teyla's blood, smoothed the hair from Teyla's face, and then clasped her left hand firmly.

"I'll protect you until they come." Her words were reinforced by the distant chatter of automatic weapons fire. "Just hold on to me."


End file.
